


Worth a Thousand

by whiskyandwildflowers



Series: Drabbles and Experiments [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, And they were portraits, Appalling abuse of alliteration, Auror Partners, Fingerfucking, Humor, M/M, My deepest apologies for this affront on humanity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, does this count as a threesome?, i know the plot is flimsy ok, oh my god they were portraits, terrible wordplay, this is not meant to be taken seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskyandwildflowers/pseuds/whiskyandwildflowers
Summary: Life for Harry Potter had always been extremely unfair. But walking in on his oil-painted counterpart fingerfucking Malfoy's portrait doppelgänger had to be his most unfair experience to date.





	Worth a Thousand

**Author's Note:**

> This was an experiment inspired by a conversation about wizarding porn. I limited my word count to 1000 (since a picture is worth a thousand words...insert laugh here).  
> I swear, the word count is correct on my Google Doc, but a little over here. 
> 
> Thanks to retiredunicorn for agreeing to beta this abomination.

Life for Harry Potter had always been extremely unfair. The whole Voldemort debacle? Unfair. Becoming Draco Malfoy’s Auror partner? Unfair. The Ministry commissioning a giant and embarrassing portrait of the two of them as a political statement of post-war _unity_ under the guise of commemorating a “job well done”? Dreadfully unfair.

But walking in on his oil-painted counterpart fingerfucking Malfoy’s portrait doppelgänger had to be his most unfair experience to date. Sincerest apologies to Voldemort.

To be fair, it had been very late and the Ministry had been empty when they’d arrived back after a raid. Malfoy had gone to drop off the evidence before heading home, and Harry had gone back to their office to grab his bag.

And there, in the corridor from the file room to their office, was his artistic likeness, lewdly fondling his partner.

Harry had always thought that his portrait’s personality was a little more…flirty than was completely necessary—always winking at passersby, puffing out his chest, and throwing them toothy grins. Potter paraphernalia was always like this. It was as if the creators couldn’t handle that the Chosen One could be a little on the cranky side and wanted to project a more marketable image.

Now, Harry was thinking that this was less of a goodnaturedly rakish rendering and more of a pornographic parody.

Harry must have let out some sort of surprised noise because their smutty alter egos turned to look at him. Their Auror robes and shirts were open, bare chests slick with sweat and trousers pooling at their feet. Portrait Malfoy was propped up against a bookshelf and Portrait Harry was half-holding him up while plunging slick fingers into his body.

“Er—oops? Would you be less upset if I told you it gets really lonely and boring being a portrait?” Harry’s crass caricature started to say, throwing him a filthy grin and not even bothering to pause what he was doing. Portrait Malfoy let out an obscene moan.

Harry’s cheeks burned, and his trousers tightened in an alarming way. “Anybody could walk by and see this!” He knew that nobody was around at this time of night—and usually only he and Malfoy frequented this corridor anyway—but it wasn’t exactly a discreet location. What if Malfoy had been the one to see this? How would he have felt? Harry’s insides twisted.

“Have you two not done this yet? Those stakeouts could get a little more interesting.” Harry wanted to ignore the way his portrait said _yet_ , as if this situation he'd walked into was some sort of kinky prophecy.

“Fu—fucking get on with it, Potter. I don’t care if he’s watching.”

“He’s very bossy. And a bit of a slag,” said Portrait Harry as he shifted his weight and grabbed his cock. Having a conversation with a portrait—especially one that was of yourself—was a wholly weird experience on the best of days. Having a conversation with a portrait who was about to engage in some very enthusiastic fucking was on a differently level completely.

“Potter, your attempts at _conversation_ are not the oral skills I’m interested in at present.” Portrait Malfoy was just as bossy and snarky as real-life Malfoy. Harry didn’t want to think too hard about how true-to-life Malfoy’s portrait really was.

“And he does the best things with that tongue of his. Makes up for the sarcasm a little.” In the portrait, Harry was lining his cock up to Malfoy’s tiny pink arsehole which was shiny with some sort of lube—how could a portrait get lube?—and puffy from foreplay. In the corridor, Harry was rooted to the spot. He didn’t want to watch his portrait bugger Malfoy rotten.

On the other hand—he did. He was transfixed by the sight of Malfoy’s leaking prick jutting out hard and pink from his otherwise pale skin. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Malfoy’s smug mouth which was open and swollen from kissing. His cheeks and chest were flushed from exertion and arousal, and his normally neat hair was matted with sweat.

The image of Harry’s normally neat and completely buttoned Auror partner coming undone at the hands of his facsimile was the most confusing, indecent, and erotic thing Harry had ever seen in his life. He was horny, hard, and minutes away from wanking out in the open in a Ministry corridor. Harry palmed his cock over his trousers.

Portrait Malfoy wrapped his legs around Pseudo-Harry’s waist, and Harry hoisted him up against the painted bookshelf, knocking various books off as they went—did portraits have to clean up the mess they made? This was something to look into another time.

Portrait Harry started to enter Malfoy with a long and low groan. Malfoy’s head thunked back against the shelf, causing more books to fall down.

“ _Merlin_ , Potter. You're lu—lucky that this cock of yours is worth putting up with your inane rambling,” Portrait Malfoy groaned.

Harry was rubbing his cock in earnest in time with the thrusts of his lascivious lookalike. The image of his cock pistoning in and out of Malfoy’s body—and the look of pure lust on Malfoy’s face—would be burned into his memory for the rest of time.

“Fu—fuck me harder, Potter. I want to feel you fill me up.” Portrait Malfoy was moaning pure filth into Portrait Harry’s ear and rutting his cock between their bodies urgently.

The entire twisted trio was reaching their climax, and Harry was just about to come hotly all over the inside of his Auror-issued trousers when—

“Potter, a picture might be worth a thousand words, but I think this has rather left me speechless.” Flesh and blood Malfoy had made his dramatic entrance.

Everyone froze and Malfoy turned on his heel to leave as quickly as he’d arrived, but Harry didn’t miss his discreet trouser adjustment.

Maybe stakeouts did have the potential to be more interesting after all.

And on Monday he was having this portrait moved to a more private location.

Perhaps inside their office.

**Author's Note:**

> If you managed to make it to the end, I salute you.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://whiskyandwildflowers.tumblr.com)


End file.
